


I will say yes

by Hedwig_Dordt



Category: British Actor RPF, The Witcher (TV) RPF
Genre: Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Remix, defining the relationship talk, disabusing people of the term bromance, explicit affirmative consent, it’s a remix of my own fic does that still count?, joey batey still can’t social media, joey batey’s glorious chest hair (he’s got so much fucking hair), would you like some porn with those feels?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:04:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedwig_Dordt/pseuds/Hedwig_Dordt
Summary: It's a remix of Love Me True - but this time, there's a fuck up. Henry goes to see his friend Jason Momoa in Hawaii, and upon his return home, Joey comes back to bring back some of his stuff. Which leads to a happy ending.
Relationships: Henry Cavill & Jason Momoa, Joey Batey & Madeleine Hyland, Joey Batey/Henry Cavill
Comments: 24
Kudos: 97





	I will say yes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Malty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malty/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Love Me True](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23071387) by [Hedwig_Dordt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedwig_Dordt/pseuds/Hedwig_Dordt). 

> So Maltypass, my valued beta reader and Britpicker, and invaluable friend mentioned “Also kind of wanna read an AU where there was a mix-up and they still end up together but Henry still goes to Hawaii.”
> 
> Did I get a travel guide to Hawaii for this? Did I watch a documentary on the natural wonders of Hawaii For Reasons of Accuracy? You bet. Did any of these things make it into the fic? Hardly. There’s also a tag “the angsty remix” on my tumblr. Unfortunately, I fail at angst, but hey. 
> 
> Mind you this was mostly written Before, and it’s a spin on a story I’ve written already so this is a pandemic-free universe. 
> 
> Book note: “Sixteenth Watch” is the latest novel by Myke Cole, and though I have a bit of a brain crush on Myke Cole, I haven’t read the book yet so I can’t personally vouch for it. China Miéville’s Perdido Street Station made me weep on the beach.

_ Prologue: November 2020 _

London is preparing for Christmas. Henry soaks it up - London is beautiful at Christmas, the trouble is she knows it. He’s spent the better part of the week weighing whether to tell Joey the truth, and if so, how to do it. In a way, the reception of their fake relationship has been calmer than he expected. Over the last week, their publicists worked on their statement that they have quietly ended their relationship, and they are resolved to be good friends and coworkers. Which means it is time to play double or nothing: tell Joey how he feels and accept whatever Joey will give him. He has resolved to put his cards on the table at least twelve times without actually following through. There is a back-up plan in case it goes wrong: he told Jason the truth months ago, and Jason offered to have him over should Joey break his heart. He has to do it now. If Joey tells him they are in fact better as friends, he is booking a ticket to Hawaii. So now he’s making himself cover the last few feet up to Joey’s flat. He can see the lights are on from the outside. He takes a centering breath and crosses the street. His hand trembles a little as he presses the bell. 

There is no answer. It just wasn’t meant to be then. 

Henry turns and walks away. 

  
  


_ January 2021, Hawaii  _

He ends up going to Hawaii in January, after the Christmas crowd have returned to their homes and their lives. He stays at Jason’s guest house. They settle into a routine of sorts, Henry trying to help out with - or at least stay out of the way of - the regular household activities. In the mornings he goes for a run, he works the weight room with Jason. He takes a nap after lunch and reads his way through  _ Sixteenth Watch  _ and then re-reads  _ Perdido Street Station _ . He goes snorkeling - the fishes in the coral reefs are amazing. He posts a few pictures to instagram, mostly of cheerful looking cocktails with an umbrella and barely a hint of his now tanned shoulder. He checks his DMs every now and again, and checks Joey’s page hoping against hope for some sign of life from Joey’s. He hasn’t posted anything since the premiere night, and even that was clearly a crafted statement, polished and agreed upon by three layers of management. 

He pulls the Hollywood star card and gets an after hours tour of the Mauna Kea observatory and a detailed explanation of lenses and the maths involved in figuring out the mysteries of the cosmos. He posts a selfie with his guide and a very enthusiastic description of everything he’s seen. After four days, Lisa makes an excuse to be out of the house, and Henry sits at the bar in the kitchen watching Jason prepare what looks like a snack platter.

“We’re going to watch the sunset, take out a good bottle of scotch and then a terrible one, and you’re going to tell me what happened,” Jason announces and hands over the platter as he goes to look for the aforementioned bottle in an overhead cupboard. 

Henry walks to the porch overlooking the sea, half dreading the conversation they are going to have. Jason comes out with the bottle and two glasses. He pours two generous measures of whiskey and hands a glass over. Henry accepts. They sit quietly, nipping on their drinks as they watch the sunset over the ocean. 

“Never gets old, does it?” Henry says. Jason hums, and Henry can hear the smile in his voice. He goes quiet, feeling for the words. 

“I went up to see him, before the ‘break-up’,” he starts. Jason goes really still. “And he wasn’t there. Or at least he didn’t open up.” He takes a long gulp. “It felt like a sign, like it was just not meant to be. So… I left.” He empties his glass and holds it up. “It’s not like he made a move either,” he continues as Jason pours another glass. “That was the last time, I still had… The possibility of something - someday - maybe.” Another sip. “Are you mad at me for not trying harder?”

“I’m not mad at you - but I do think you might be a bit mad at you.”

“I was a coward.”

“You’re in love. It doesn’t always make us brave.”

Henry peers into the distance, and drops his head on Jason’s shoulder. “I chose the hurt I already knew,” he mutters. “I said I’d salvage our friendship and I have no idea how to do it.”

“You had a taste of what your relationship could be like and now nothing else will do.” Jason offers. 

“So did he. And it wasn’t enough.”

  
  


_ January 2021 - England _

> PEREZHILTON
> 
> It’s been two whole months since our favourite muscle couple from  **The Witcher** announced they’ve broken up. And although Henry Cavill seems to have taken a sun-soaked holiday in Hawaii without his former boyfriend, they still have not followed the regular protocol of mutually unfollowing and both still have their pictures up on instagram. Is there still hope for a reconciliation? What do you guys think?

He should stay off instagram, Joey tells himself. It is pointless to stalk your not-quite-ex on instagram. Nothing good ever comes from it. The traitor that is predictive text adds Henry’s username and so Joey is checking it again. Apparently, he is in Hawaii drinking cocktails, and visiting the observatory, like the nerd he is deep down. He sighs. At least one of us is having fun, Joey thinks to himself as he flings himself back onto the bed. The wind blows endless rain against the window, in what should be excellent writing circumstances. He scrolls through his own messages; congratulations on the new season, the more or less regular wedding proposals, and the messages of cheering up and commiseration over the break up. Under his last post, a picture taken at the premiere of the second season of The Witcher, is a lively debate over whether Jaskier and Geralt are in love or if it’s just the actors. As if the answer can’t be both. 

He’s been trying to write new material for weeks, but since November whatever magic had been pouring out of him has stopped. He knows why. He just tries his hardest not to think of it. Which is likely why his words aren’t flowing - and when they do, it’s… maudlin. (“No, no, a jig - you can save the maudlin stuff for my funeral” his brain supplies. Because even when he is trying not to think of what is between him and Henry, that’s where his brain goes. To Before.) He gives in and writes the mopey lines out. Might as well get them out of his system. In the evening, he texts Madeleine.

_Good news: words. Bad news: not very good ones._ _Sorry :( _

_ Still moping? _ Madeleine writes back.

_ Not sure if I can mope over a break up with someone I wasn’t actually dating.  _

_ Have you considered at least giving him back his stuff? You know, to get some closure? _

He looks up from his phone, around the living room. Mixed in with the usual debris of a writing day, There's an album Henry had lent to him to listen to - he should probably rip it into his music library and return that. The chair at the dinner table Henry had sat on is still not pulled back up. He has been wearing the hoodie Henry forgot at some point for at least three days now. It hangs loosely over his shoulders, and the fabric is warm and soft - it’s comfortable in a way he doesn’t care to look into too closely.

_ How’s the rehearsal prep going?  _ He writes in a blatant bid to change the topic. But Madeleine does have a point, he concedes. He might as well take her advice. He puts the album into his laptop, and rips the content though he isn’t sure when he’ll be able to listen to it again. He tidies up all the odds and ends that have been ending up out of place. And in an attempt to ride this wave of domestic productivity, he vacuums the apartment. He throws the hoodie in the washer with a batch of laundry. Feeling slightly better he treats himself to a show. Whenever Henry is back in town, he’ll return his stuff, he vows to himself. 

  
  


_ Early February 2021 _

An underreported advantage of being an actor is sometimes, you can take a Tuesday off from the world. Henry settles in with Cyberpunk 2077 that he got himself as a treat. A mug of coffee within reach, Kal curled up at his feet, washed out track pants and an equally frayed shirt because he is taking a break from the world. He is well into the story when the doorbell rings. Kal raises his head. He swears, saves the game and changes to the camera feed that monitors the door. His heart skips a beat when he recognises Joey on his doorstep. Of everything he could fixate on, his brain chooses to notice that he still hasn’t had the strap on his backpack fixed. 

“Coming!” he says through the intercom. He walks to the door, Kal on his heels. He opens the door, and Kal immediately runs out to greet Joey. Apparently Kal missed Joey too. He feels vaguely guilty. “Hi,” he says, unsuccessfully trying for something - anything - more intelligent.

Joey scratches Kal behind the ears. Henry drinks in the sight of him, cataloguing all the ways he’s changed since they saw each other last. Joey looks....smaller somehow. Wait, is that his hoodie under the coat? And is he growing out his hair for a part or has he been too distracted to get a haircut? He feels another pang of loss for not knowing. He watches Joey reach for his backpack. “I found your shirt. Washed it too,” Joey says, his hand over the doorway. 

"Do you want to come in for a bit? It looks like it might rain." He mentally scolds himself for the dumbest words he’s ever said, for asking Joey into the house that feels too large without him, despite knowing that it will only hurt worse when he inevitably leaves again. 

Joey looks over his shoulder, nods and steps into the house. Henry trails after him, Kal between them. Joey unzips his coat but doesn’t hang it up. He quietly follows Henry into the living room. “Place,” he gently orders Kal, who for a mercy does as he’s told. Henry looks around and suddenly realises it is a mess. Joey follows his gaze, and seems to notice it too. 

“I’m sorry about the mess,” he says. “I’ve been…” 

"Henry, are you okay?" Joey asks carefully. 

Something like hope blossoms in Henry's chest - if nothing else, Joey cares enough about him to notice he is out of sorts. He looks at Joey and then to the floor. "No, I don't think I am," he says carefully. "Haven't been since November." It is as close as he’s ever come to a confession. 

“November?” Joey echoes, processing the possible implications of that particular moment. 

He shrugs. “Missed you,” he says. He is rooted on the spot as Joey stalks over to him. Joey stops just before him, close enough for Henry to feel the warmth radiating from underneath his coat. 

Joey reaches out and carefully takes his hand as if not to spook him. “I’m not reading this wrong, am I?” 

Henry shakes his head. The air between them feels charged. 

Joey smiles softly, and whispers, “Oh thank god - I missed you too” as he closes the last inches between them and presses a kiss on his mouth. Henry opens his mouth to him, and gently licks over Joey’s lips, teasing a little. He feels Joey smile as he lets his tongue in. He slides his hand around Joey’s waist underneath the coat, suddenly anxious and desperately chasing contact between their bodies. Joey shrugs off the coat letting it drop on the floor. He feels Joey’s hand slip underneath his shirt. The contact sends another sizzle of pleasure up his spine. He tilts his hips a little, realising he is getting hard. He slides a hand along and then into the waistband of Joey’s jeans. That elicits a small chuckle. “Eager?”

“I have been dreaming about this for a long time, let me…”

Joey slides his hands underneath the shirt, and Henry obliges him, lifting his arms so Joey can pull the shirt off. “Just drop it,” he says. 

Joey drops it as his eyes wander over his chest with a look that can only be described as hunger. “Can I?”

“Whatever you want,” Henry says. 

“Careful with that. A man could get ideas.”

“Bedroom?”

“Yes, now.”

They make out in the doorway, then in the corridor, and then in the doorway to his bedroom. The bedroom is a mess too, but Henry is too caught up in the joy of having Joey in his arms, soon his bed, and maybe after that his life to bring himself to care. He barely remembers to close the bedroom door. He is kissing Joey - or is Joey kissing him? - as he opens the fly on Joey’s jeans and slides a hand in, over Joey’s cock. Joey moans a bit. 

“Is that okay?” he asks.

Joey opens his eyes, grins. “Yes. Very.” Joey pushes against his chest.

For a second, he considers taking Joey with him, but instead he just falls back on the bed and lets Joey crawl over him with a predatory glint in his eyes. Henry knows what it’s like to be looked at: it is quite literally his job description. This is an entirely novel experience, wanting to be seen, to have Joey looking his fill with a look that promises pleasure - there’s something heady to it he doesn’t really want to think about just yet. 

“Okay, I’m sorry I do feel like I should tell you that I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I’ve never actually -,” he gestures, “with a man. Other than myself.”

“Let me.” Joey says, “let me hear you when it feels good.” Joey has put his knees on either side of his hips. 

He loops an arm around Joey’s neck and draws Joey in for a kiss. Joey moves to bite his earlobe, presses a trail of kisses along his jawline, and then down his neck. Henry drops his head back as far as he can, arches a bit as he leans into the touch. Joey hums, “that’ll do too.” He feels his skin pebble as Joey’s hand strokes down his pecs and over his - oooh. He’s moaning before he realises he’s doing it. Joey licks one nipple as he gently squeezes the other one and gods, he doesn’t remember being this hard in a long time with so little work. Joey’s hand strokes up, and then over his upper arm - which again turns out to be incredibly sensitive. 

“Please,” he pleads, though he’s not exactly sure what he’s pleading for. He can feel Joey getting off him and opens his eyes to find out what’s going on.

“Would you like me to blow you?” Joey asks in a carefully neutral voice that is in stark contrast to the flush on his cheeks. 

He nods. 

“Say it.”

“I very much want you to…” he stumbles over his tongue, “to blow me.” 

“Good. Move up against the headboard. I want you to be able to see.”

He does as he’s told, leaning on his elbows. His stomach flutters with anticipation as Joey strips him of his sweatpants and his boxers in one quick go and nestles between his legs. He drops his head against the wall involuntarily as Joey kisses his way up his thigh on the left and strokes and squeezes on the right. 

“Someday soon, I’m going to spend a lot more time on these gorgeous thighs of yours,” Joey promises. A hand strokes up his groin, back over his balls and over an apparently very sensitive spot behind them nobody ever bothered to inform him of before. His eyes drop closed and he moans a bit. 

“Was that a ‘yes good’ moan?” 

Henry opens his eyes, looks down and nods. Joey is grinning like a cat in cream, he is clearly enjoying this. Henry concentrates on watching as Joey takes in his whole length in one go. It’s only because Joey has his hands on his thighs that he doesn’t buck up. Joey winks at him,  _ the bastard smiles _ , and flicks his tongue. It’s obscene, it’s pornographic, and it’s the hottest thing that he’s ever seen. Joey expertly sucks and hums, varying the pressure while holding his legs down to remain in control. His breathing becomes ragged, all too soon he can feel his orgasm building. 

“I think I’m going to come,” he manages between breaths. 

Joey raises an eyebrow at him, slides a hand over his balls and sucks. He can feel his legs spasming as he comes inside Joey’s mouth. Joey’s hands stroke over his belly and his legs as he rides out his pleasure. 

He holds out an arm and Joey curls up in it. He presses a kiss on Joey’s temple. “That was amazing,” he pants, “I don’t think I can quite match that.”

“Yet.” Joey says with a grin. “I do quite like seeing you undone like that,” he admits.

“Blowing me a power trip?”

“Just a little. Keeping all of that in check with just my mouth?” Joey shrugs, “Great way to make a man feel good about himself.”

Henry vows privately to learn every way to make Joey come, and then add some new ones just to be sure. 

“Can I… pleasure you?” he asks. 

“Whatever you want.” 

“Jerk you off?”

Henry doesn’t wait for the enthusiastic ‘yes’ to start rummaging in the drawer of the bedside table for lube. He finds a bottle and turns back to watch Joey peeling off his trousers. He casually throws them on the floor, followed by his shirt and his boxers. He is still half-hard, Henry notices almost giddy with anticipation and only a little nerves. This is a first for him. He slows his breathing and tries to avoid thinking too far ahead. He squirts a liberal amount on the palm of his hand and lets it warm up a bit. 

He watches Joey fall back on the bed - is he ever going to get used to that sight? - and he drapes himself over Joey, slotting a leg between Joey’s. “Let me know what feels good?” he asks with a grin and dips in to kiss Joey again. Joey wraps an arm around him, drawing him in. 

“I expect to be screaming soon,” Joey says, who apparently will never stop throwing out challenges at him. 

He starts with what he knows - kissing, slowly, tilting his hips a bit to give just a bit of friction. He feels Joey tilting his hips towards him, clearly chasing his touch. He shifts his weight so he can start exploring Joey’s body, finally pinned underneath him. He cards his fingers through Joey’s chest hair, aided by the slipperiness of his hand, experimentally tugging at it a little - though to not much vocal response. He strokes down the inside of Joey’s arm, down to the tips of his fingers. He cheats a little, sliding his hand back up the wrist and then moves it over Joey’s hip. He halts for a moment, looks at Joey to make sure he’s comfortable and slides his hand over Joey’s cock, earning him another moan. He slides down, trying to get a feel for it, tightens his grip a little at the base - oh, another moan he files away - moving further over his balls, slipping a finger over that same spot - because man, that felt good when Joey did it to him. He watches Joey start to lose control a little. He grips the base a little tighter, and moves to stroke up; twists around the head so he doesn’t lose a point of connection

“You can squeeze a little tighter,” Joey mutters, and he tries to, feeling for the point of just enough. Joey takes in a sharp breath and he lets go immediately. 

“Too much?” Henry asks. 

“Just right,”Joey looks up at him through heavy lidded eyes. “I won’t break, I promise.” He returns his hand over Joey’s cock and grips it as tightly, jerking him with as much pressure as he dares, going slow, looking to draw the experience out. He methodically tries to figure out how to keep Joey hard, but not quite there yet. He watches as Joey drops his head back, how he chases his pleasure, tilting his hips, thrusting forward. Soon he starts muttering,  _ please _ , and  _ Henry  _ and  _ more _ .

“More what?” he whispers into Joey’s ear, biting onto his earlobe.

“Anything!”

“You’re not screaming yet, love,” he says. “Faster?”

“Yes!” 

He obliges, a little, increasing the speed, but varying the rhythm a bit. He watches a sheen of sweat develop on Joey’s face, and he’s starting to curse a bit. 

“Please, fuck...Oh that’s good…” 

“You are so beautiful like this,” he says, “I can’t believe I get to see this.” Henry feels his own arousal in response to the sight that is Joey, panting under his hand. He presses kisses on his mouth, his cheek, his shoulders, and then finally takes pity. He makes Joey come with fast, regular strokes, come streaking his belly. In a moment of curiosity, he dips a finger in it, and tastes. It’s not bad, he decides. He could stand to figure out how to swallow. 

All settled in to enjoy the afterglow, Joey spots The Atrocity Archive with a bookmark about three quarters into it. 

“Did you get stuck?” he asks, nodding at the book. 

“I didn’t want to let it go quite yet,” Henry says sheepishly. 

“Ever the optimist.” Joey nestles in, his head on Henry’s chest, his hand aimlessly roaming over his body. 

“Not really.”

“Hmm.”

“That’s my line!” Henry says, mock-offended. “I think I’ll finish it now though.” They go quiet for a bit.

“So, when you said ‘a long time’,” Joey says, “how long are we talking?”

Henry raises an eyebrow. 

“Okay - at the concert?”

“Then too. You turned to me after that encore song and I lived on that for weeks.”

“So longer than that,” Joey concludes. “Was it when we went for a walk on Hampstead Heath?”

Henry nods. 

“Before that even? Wait - did you ask me to be your fake boyfriend so you could, I don’t know, test drive me?”

“No! That honestly was Dani’s idea, and she had no idea what she was asking of me.”

“But she knew?”

“It didn’t take her long to figure out anyway.”

“Yes, she is a sharp cookie.” Joey gives up on the interrogation for the moment. “So we’re going to do this like normal human beings, right? For, you know, our values of normal.”

“For as long as you’ll have me,” Henry says earnestly. He owes Jason a bottle of very good Scotch now, but it’s going to be worth it. 

“Are you feeling up to another round yet?”

  
  


_ March 2021  _

Henry rummages in the likeliest drawer to find a pair of headphones. He knows Joey owns more than one, it’s just always a bit of a search to localise them. When he finds a pair, he settles in on the couch to read his way through the next Enola Holmes script when Madeleine’s voice rings through the apartment. “I got it!” Madeleine’s voice is tinted with joy even through the headphones. The first few times Joey played her voice messages out loud, he’d actually looked around to see where she was. He is by now almost immune to them, he just adjusts the volume of the background noise a little. Joey apparently realises he is trying to get some work done, because there is no screaming in reply, instead he is typing out his response, followed by the production of a batch of hilariously excited looking selfies. Henry watches Joey, his grin wide with delight that Madeleine got cast in a play they are both excited about. Joey looks up, a bit apologetic over playing the message, but not very sorry. Henry waves his regards, Joey nods and starts typing some more. It’s mostly a joy to have Joey back in his life, and for real this time. 

Joey plasters himself over Henry that evening, both sated for now. “So, you know there will be an opening night for Mads’ new play?” Henry hums. “So, I asked her, and if you wanted, you could come. With me. If it doesn’t interfere with anything.”

Henry presses a kiss on Joey’s forehead - since that is within reach at the moment. “I’d like that,” he replies. 

“You don’t have to, of course.”

“I said I’d like that, didn’t I?”

“I know. I’m…” Joey rolls onto his back. 

Henry turns to his side to watch him. “Adjusting?” he suggests.

“Sort of.” Henry recognises the look on his face and lets Joey figure out his words. “Figuring out how this works. You and me. Where the boundaries are, without the outside interference.”

“Would you like a bit more of a plan?” Henry suggests.

“Maybe?”

“Guidelines? Agreed-upon parameters?”

“Well I’m certainly not going to be more active on instagram.”

“How would you feel about showing up every now and again on mine?” Joey thinks about that for a second, and nods. “Anything else you’d like?” Henry asks, running his finger from Joey’s hip to his shoulder.

“Nah, not really. But you’re coming with me to the opening night. And then we’ll see how it goes?”

“Sure.” Henry agrees easily. “I was thinking - do you want a replay of our Hampstead trip?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow works. I mean, I have pages to read, but I guess I can bring those.”

Joey nods, and turns around to fold himself underneath Henry’s chin, which means his feet peek out over the edge of the bed. Henry knows it’ll mean cold feet underneath his side of the blanket at some point over the course of the night but he enjoys it too much to mind. 

> PEREZHILTON
> 
> Shippers, rejoice: it seems your favourite romance, by which I mean my favourite romance to ogle, is back on track. Henry Cavill has returned to instagram to show off his beautiful dog - but if he’s holding the camera, who is throwing the ball? I’ve been told people are absolutely convinced they hear Joey Batey crooning _good boy _in the background. Do you agree? Does your partner call you good boy in public? Just me? Let me know!

Joey has an audition for an interesting part in the morning, so he should not spend the night with his sexy boyfriend, but instead go to bed early by himself and wake up early and well-rested. So he has gone through the motions: brushed his teeth, showered, and gone to bed. He is lying in bed, trying to fall asleep in the bed that now feels too large. After tossing and turning for half an hour, he checks his messages. Sure enough, Henry has sent him something. A screenshot of the comments below the little story Henry had shared of their afternoon in the park.  _ You’re still a hit _ , Henry has added. The exploding heads and heart eye emojis do seem to point that way.  _ A jawline that can cut glass doesn’t hurt _ , Joey writes back.  _ And Kal is adorable _ . He pouts a bit at the empty spot next to him.  _ I miss you. Good night. _ He puts his phone on the nightstand.  _ We miss you too. Good night! _

  
  


_ April 2021 _

Joey keeps tugging at the cuffs of his shirt while they are waiting to be let into the theatre. He knows he is only here for Madeleine, but he can’t help but feeling like everyone is looking at him. It’s probably Henry though - wait, no people are calling his name too. He moves a little closer to Henry, just close enough to run a finger over the back of Henry’s hand. Henry catches his finger with his own.

“Just smile, you’re doing fine,” Henry says softly.

“Easy for you to say.” 

“Just remember they’re here for the same reason you are.”

The doors open right as Joey huffs, and they spill inside to find for their seats. 

After the performance, they wait in the bar along with everyone else for the cast members to return from the dressing rooms. One by one they turn up, and they are met with roaring applause every time. By the time Madeleine returns the crowd is more or less drunk on its own enthusiasm, and even Joey has lost most of his inhibitions. When she spots him, she breaks into a smile and walks over. He raises a glass to her, and from the corner of his eye he notices a flash. And then Madeleine hugs him. Or he her. They are a tangle of limbs. 

“You were fantastic,” he says. He lets go of her, makes her twirl in her dress. “You look fantastic too.”

She smiles: “so do you. I can’t remember the last time I saw you all dressed up.”

“Eh, Henry insisted.”

Madeleine shifts her attention, and shakes Henry’s hand. “Thank you for that.”

“Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.” Henry says, wielding his most winning smile. 

“I’ll take your word for it. And you get to peel him out of it, I guess.”

“Mads!” Joey says scandalised. Henry grins, and pointedly doesn’t deny it. 

> REPOST: get you a man who looks at you the way Joey Batey looks at Madeleine Hyland. [photo id: on the left, Madeleine Hyland looking resplendent in a long blue dress. On the right, Joey Batey holding up a glass in toast, looking at her with affection and admiration]
> 
> **Henrycavill ** liked this picture
> 
> **Geraskierislife ** WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK? 
> 
> **Bateilliscanon** : is he just checking mentions of Joey Batey’s name now? #sorryjoey

Henry checks his email, waiting for a new set of pages to come in, but instead he finds a message his publicist sent him. “For once, I’m sending you a pap shot. Mostly for the caption. Just one thing: if you’re going to respond to this, please make sure you loop us in,” she writes. He opens the attachment. It’s a pap shot of him and Joey on their way from the store, hands entwined. “Our favourite bromance is back!” the caption reads. He forwards it to Joey: “What do you think?” he writes. 

Joey calls him that night. “ _ BROMANCE _ ?” he sputters indignantly. “What the fuck? What kind of friendships do these people have?” 

Henry grins at the offended tone. “Should we spell it out for them?” he asks. “Mika apparently saw that coming, because they asked to be kept in the loop.” 

Joey goes quiet for a moment. “You don’t have to,” he says carefully.

“I know. And neither do you,” he counters.

“I know,” Joey says. “I don’t mind. It doesn’t matter to me really. It’s just.” Henry waits for him to finish his thought. “I have no idea what your insta messages looked like, you know, earlier. But there were a lot of people that felt better about themselves because of us.” They are still a bit touchy about their weird courtship. “In a way I feel we owe people the truth?” 

Henry feels a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, something relaxes in his shoulders. “What happened to the party line?” he asks.

“I’m not opposed to just claiming the label ‘bisexual’ explicitly. Are you comfortable with that?”

“I think so.” Henry says.

“Then we might as well. Do you want to do it when I come over tomorrow?” Joey asks.

“That works. And you know you can change your mind about it if you’ve slept on it, okay?”

“Same goes for you. Oh man, a whole day of rehearsals to get through before that,” Joey mopes. 

“How is that going?” And with that, they move on to the next topic. 

Joey stuffs the last crisps in his mouth just before he arrives at Henry’s place after a gruelling day of rehearsals - the glow of the new has worn off, but it hasn’t quite taken on the urgency of opening night in sight. He takes off his headphones before ringing the bell and is rewarded a few moments later he hears the combined footfalls of a person and a really excited dog. The heaviness of the day lifts even before the door is opened. 

“Sit,” he hears through the door, and then “stay”, before it is opened to reveal his boyfriend in an apron and Kal, looking like he desperately wants to come and greet him. “Come on in.”

Joey steps inside and wraps his arms around Henry’s neck to kiss him, and then tries to wrap a leg around his waist for good measure. When they finally let go, Henry asks how he is. 

“All the better for seeing you,” he says truthfully. “Hey you,” he says as he scratches behind Kal’s ear. “What’s for dinner?” 

“Food,” comes the unhelpful answer. 

“I was hoping for wine.”

“That too.” He follows Henry into the kitchen where a bottle of red has been decanting on the countertop. He throws three empty crisp packages from his jacket into the bin. 

“Hungry?” Henry asks, looking pointedly. 

“Starving,” Joey says, blithely ignoring the prompt. “Long day, growing boy.” Henry just shakes his head and puts the pasta into the boiling water. 

After dinner, they make themselves comfortable on the couch with two large mugs of tea. 

“So I was thinking,” Joey says.

“Oh dear,” Henry teases. 

“Yeah, it happens - sorry about that. I was thinking about how we should pose the photographs. I think it would be nice to have you in my arms.”

Henry looks surprised, but considers it. “Let’s give it a go.” 

They put aside their mugs and Joey turns on an extra light while Henry fidgets with the camera settings on his phone. Joey sits back down, takes off his shoes, and puts one foot on the couch and taps on the cushion. Henry sidles over and makes himself comfortable between his boyfriend’s legs, consciously relaxing his shoulders a bit. He looks up over his shoulder and smiles. Joey presses a kiss against his temple. “Now,” he says, “this might be a good shot.” Henry raises his phone and snaps a picture. “Smoulder at me a bit,” Joey instructs without even looking at it. Henry raises an eyebrow and then does as he’s told. “That’s it,” Joey says and Henry snaps twice, hoping at least one of the images doesn’t turn out blurry. “You want to change positions?” Joey asks innocently. 

“Questions to which the answer is always ‘yes’,” Henry says as he gets up. Joey moves over and Henry takes the nook. Joey sits down across his lap and drapes himself over Henry’s chest. 

“I could just stay here forever,” Joey hums as his presses kisses along Henry’s jawline. 

“Focus,” Henry grumbles as he takes a picture. 

“Nah.”

He drops his phone on the couch and turns his head to gently bite Joey’s lower lip. “Focus,” he repeats.

“Not fair.” Joey pouts. 

“Just one or two more and we’re probably good.”

Joey squirms in his lap a bit, and he can feel himself getting aroused so he shifts. Joey grins like he knows exactly what he’s doing - and he probably does. He picks up his phone with a sigh and snaps one more shot. 

“Help me pick,” he asks as he opens up the album, going over the pictures. “I like this one.” He shows the second one, where he is in Joey’s arms looking at him with a mixture of hunger and admiration that is definitely about as sexy as he is willing to be on his public account. 

Joey flips through the options. “You’re right,” he says, “that’s the best one.”

Henry uploads it, and adds:

> _ Yes @joeybatey and I are an item. Since people seem to make assumptions: I’m bisexual - that’s b-i-s-e-x-u-a-l. That’s what I was five years ago, and it’s what I am today. People just failed to ask me about my sexual orientation when I dated women because they made assumptions, and they are making assumptions now that I’m dating a man. I’m bi. And for everyone out there, figuring out what label fits you: whatever feels right to you, wherever you are in your journey - it’s okay. _

Henry walks over to the table and picks something up. “So now that we’re instagram official, I thought you should have a key.” He hands it over to Joey. “So that if you come home late after the show, you can let yourself in.” Joey takes the key and kisses him. Henry ignores the text alerts in favour of kissing his now key-official boyfriend. 

The next morning he finds a text from Jason.  _ I saw your post - congratulations brother - that’s a big step.  _

He texts back while he waits for his coffee to brew:  _ I gave him a key to the house last night, but that felt a bit too private for insta.  _ As he writes it, he realises that is true: there are things he isn’t really willing to share with the world: not the way Joey seems to keep an average of 60% of his limbs inside the bed frame as he sleeps. That he likes it, even though he grumbles about Joey warming his feet on his calves. He doesn’t really mind that between Kal and Joey, the amount of havoc on the regular has gone up significantly. The way the sounds of Joey and Madeleine makes his house feel even more like home. There’s no way to capture that in images anyway, and he’d really rather leave the poetry to Joey. 

_ GET YOUR MAN!  _ , the reply comes.

_ I intend to keep him _ , he writes. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, consider sharing the  tumblr link 


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